Mages and Warriors and Rogues, Oh My
by Vaneria Potter
Summary: A Mage, a Warrior and a Rogue. Just how much trouble can three heros get into searching for one little Dragon Egg, anyway? Crossover with Harry Potter and Adventure Quest/ DragonFable
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own Dragon Fable or Harry Potter. DF belongs to Atrix Entertainment, and Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Do we have to write this every time? I can't be the only person who is getting sick of stating the obvious._

_Summary: A Mage, a Rogue and a Warrior. How much trouble can three people get into searching for a dragon egg? Crossover with Harry Potter._

* * *

**Chapter One**

The young mage in grey and pale blue, nicely matching her lion's pelt cape, gathered her robe around her as she picked her way over a particularly rocky stretch of ground. "Remind me why we're doing this again?"

Her two companions sighed in unison. This was not the first time they had gone over the issue, nor the first time the mage had expressed her displeasure of the subject. A rogue clad in green and white vaulted over a large boulder, landing in a crouch. "Because Henna was daft enough to agree to Lady Celestina's request before she got the specifics. Are all warriors that quick to jump into danger?"

The third of the group, a warrior in silver and dark blue, glared at the rogue. "No, that's just Atrix. Besides, it didn't sound that unreasonable at the time."

The mage tightened her grip on the glowing staff in her hands, using it to blast a tangle of vines out of the way, and then pointed it at the warrior, who took a hasty step back. "It never does. I swear that sorceress puts something in her tea before she force-drinks it to everyone who crosses her path."

The rogue snickered as she eyed what used to be a vine. "That was uncommonly nasty, Vaneria. Though it's still hardly a reason to take it out on innocent plant life. Or did those poor vines do something to mortally offend you?"

Vaneria pinned the rogue with a lethal glare, contemplating if throwing a fireball was worth the energy. "Shut up, Nightflower. But really, why does Lady Celestina need us to hunt down that box she managed to misplace?"

Henna ducked under a low branch. "Because it contains a dragon egg that could either save or destroy the world of Lore. She might have told us which one, though."

Vaneria nodded, still unhappy about the whole situation. Finding and caring for a dragon (although not necessarily an Armageddon-related one) was part of the mage's rite of passage, and she still cringed at what she had gone through to retrieve Avatre almost a year ago.

As much as she loved her baby dragon, she wasn't keen on going through those particular quests again, just because the other two had nagged her into it, without bothering to question Lady Celestina about the quest before they had agreed to help her.

Keeping a wary eye on her irate cousin, Nightflower brought up another question. "While we're at it, would you care to tell me how we're supposed to actually find Robina. The band of Merry Women isn't exactly easy to track down."

Henna shrugged. "You have to admit, it's better than sitting around and having Serenity nag us into wiping out the ghosts in her attic every other day, and I refuse to be responsible for my actions if I'm dragged into one more mini-quest because Aria can't stop wandering into caves filled with giant insects."

Vaneria and Nightflower both shuddered at the idea. Aria did have a habit of getting herself situations like that, to the point that nearly everyone in Falconreach hid when Aria's grandmother came looking for 'volunteers' to rescue the girl. The young (and not-so-young) would-be heroes of Falconreach only hoped that Aria never crossed paths with Sally of Moonridge. Some adventures just weren't worth it.

* * *

Nightflower and Vaneria and Henna were cousins. Vaneria was the cherished only daughter and youngest of the Guardian Sparhawk's four children. Needless to say, becoming a mage was not on Sparhawk's list of dreams for his daughter and convincing him to let her train had been a battle worthy of any supervillian in the land of Lore. In the end, Vaneria had been forced to threaten him with apprenticing to Cysero before he would let her become a mage.

Nightflower and Henna, on the other hand, were the twin children of Sparhawk's younger sister, Ehlania, who was unlike her brother in that she had no objections to her children being trained as a rogue and a warrior.

Like most Mages, Vaneria was quiet, with a passion to learn, and could usually be found with her nose buried in a book or scroll. No library was safe from her, although they were certainly safe from anything else while she was present. Even Sneevils knew not to disturb Vaneria when she was reading.

Henna was the opposite, a stereotypical hot-headed warrior, quick to act and even quicker to speak. Unlike her cousin, Henna much preferred the outdoors and could barely sit still for five minutes without fidgeting. Youngest of the three, Henna was also the most active.

Nightflower was something of a mix, with the Rogue's annoying habit of being nearly impossible to accurately describe. Small and lithe, she was very nimble, and not someone that you ever wanted to play hide and seek with. Like Henna, she was almost always on the move, but still preferred time to herself now and then.

Now the three of them were fighting their way through Sure Would Forest in the hopes of finding Robina the Hood, who was notoriously difficult to locate on the best of days, and flat out impossible the rest of the time.

* * *

Thankfully, this turned out to be one of the good days, although it still took five hours and several bandit encounters before they managed to find Robina relaxing near a waterfall.

She had the box with the dragon-egg, but had apparently failed to post a look-out, as a Sneevil managed to sneak up and grab the box while Robina and the cousins were busy with strenuous negotiations. Henna promptly gave chase, quickly followed by the other two, leaving a somewhat affronted Robina behind.

Chasing after the Sneevil, Vaneria heard her pet shriek a warning in Draconic. Sadly, Vaneria was the only one present who actually understood the language of dragons, and the other two were more intent on catching the box-thief.

So, while Vaneria skidded to a halt, her cousins did not, and careened into her back, sending all three tumbling into the silvery-blue force-field that suddenly appeared in front of them.

The force-field didn't seem to do anything, but perhaps it held properties of teleportation, because the trio found themselves near the edge of the forest, which should have been on the other side of at least a day's travel.

Fortunately, the Sneevil had been sent with them, and the chase resumed until they burst out of the forest, coming face to face with a group of very surprised teenagers and one very large man.

A castle rose in the distance, but it was neither Falconreach Tower nor Oaklore Keep, and there were no recognizable landmarks from any of the places that the trio had quested.

Oh, dear.

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_A/N: This is the first time I've tried to do a crossover, and my first try at an Adventure Quest fic. Comments and suggestions for improvement are very, very welcome at this point._

_Thanks, Nat._


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: Not mine and, barring a miricle, never will be.  
__Summary: See previous chapters._

* * *

**Chapter Two**

The Fifth Year Care of Magical Creatures class at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was filled with a mix of relief and apprehension. Relief, because they were not studying Blast-Ended Skrewts this year; apprehension, because they were waiting to discover what they **would** be studying, and Umbridge would be performing one of her 'reviews'.

Hagrid had just started leading them around the back of his hut when something that looked like a cross between a house-elf and a goblin came running out of the Forbidden Forest, carrying a large box. It was closely pursued by a trio of young women, and a dragon-like thing about the size of a small dog.

At a Wizarding School, strange things tended to happen on a fairly regular basis, and were mostly taken in stride. This incident, however, was even stranger than usual, and left everyone staring as the thing-with-the-box put on a burst of speed and Hagrid shook off his surprise long enough to intercept the trio.

The smallest of the trio cursed loudly as their way was blocked, earning a stern look from the tallest and an exasperated glance from the middle girl, before all three turned to face Hagrid and the students, giving them their first proper look at the newcomers.

All three were dark-haired, graceful and slender, but that was where the similarities ended.

The first was tall, with fair skin and long, straight auburn hair. She was clad in charcol-grey robes with a light blue trim, and a matching cloak with strange symbols, also in light blue. If you ignored the long staff with the amethyst crystal and the pale blue mini-dragon with dark grey wings at her side, she could probably pass with little notice.

Not so her companions. The second girl wore silver armor that would not have looked out of place among the suits that lined the halls of the castle, if you ignored the fact that she was smaller, not as bulky, and quite obviously female. Her brown hair was pulled back in a long braid, and she carried a longsword.

The third was smaller than the others by at least a head, and dressed in a fitted green tunic and leggings, with tall boots and arm-guards, and her black hair fell to her shoulders in a tumble of loose curls. Two long, slim knives with jeweled hilts hung at her waist, and her stance suggested that she knew how to use them.

For a long moment, no one spoke. Of course, it would be Professor Umbridge whose high-pitched voice broke the silence. "Who are you and what are you doing trespassing at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry? Explain yourselves at once!"

None of the girls looked overly impressed with the High Inquisitor, which was confirmed by the first girl's disdainful glance as she spoke. "My name is Vaneria, and these two are my cousins, Henna and Nightflower. We didn't know that we were trespassing, or even how we came here, but we apologize for any perceived offence."

To Umbridge's obvious dismay, she could find nothing wrong with that statement, and spluttered for a moment before pointing at the mini-dragon. "Well then, explain what that thing is!"

Vaneria's eyes went hard as the dragon flapped its way into the air, settling in her arms. "This is Avatre. She is in my care, and really none of your business. Now, if you will excuse us, we have a Sneevil to locate."

Ignoring the whispers of '_Locate what?_' and '_What's a Sneevil?_' Umbridge blocked their path. "I think not. Mr. Malfoy, Miss Greengrass, escort these three to Professor Dumbledore's office."

Henna looked ready to physically contest the point, but backed down when Vaneria touched her arm. "Sneevils don't cope very well with magic. He will need to rest sooner and longer than we will, so we can track him down later. This shouldn't take up too much of our time."

* * *

Vaneria took it back. The castle was a maze of twisting passages and long corridors, doors that led somewhere different each time you used them and staircases that actually moved. And that was before they met 'Professor Dumbledore'.

Vaneria had been taught by Warlic, who lived in the same tower as Cysero, and had learned about dragons from Lady Celestina. These facts together, she had experience dealing with eccentrics who always knew more than they were saying, but even with that, Dumbledore still had her looking for a wall to smash someone's head against. Smashing your own head was very counter-productive.

After spending a good hour convincing him that they were not crazy and that they really did need to find the Sneevil and get back home, Dumbledore finally offered to let them stay until they found the box-thief, in return for a later favor. The twinkle in his eye had all three of them worried.

Given directions to a small set of rooms, the three set off to settle in for the near future. Unfortunately, Nightflower was unable to withhold a snarky comment. "Well, that went wonderfully. Now we're stuck in a huge castle when we should be out looking for that box!"

Vaneria's voice was barely short of a snarl as she glared at her kinswoman. "You two are the ones who got us into this mess in the first place! One more word of complaint and it will be worth the energy to blast you straight out of the nearest window!"

Avatre cooed soothingly, prompting her mistress to sigh as the other two exchanged nervous looks. Henna poked Nightflower, who briefly glared back. "Fine, it looks like we'll just have to make the best of it. Now, how do we get to those rooms again?"

It was a good thing that the heroes of Falconreach talked to ghosts on a regular basis, because the trio wound up having to ask at least two of them for directions. Twenty minutes and three wrong turns later, they reached a portrait of a large lady in a pink dress. Several portraits after that, they had to politely greet the statue of a priestess to enter what would be their rooms.

Looking around, Henna noted that it could fit Serenity's entire Common Room in just the bedroom, and that it bore a strong resemblance to a better-lit version of Amityvale's haunted house.

At this, Vaneria very nearly left to stay at the inn in the nearby village, but her cousins blocked the doorway.

Sulking, she sat down and pulled two books out of her bag. One was her Mage Journal, which she put aside for later. The other was one of the very few useful things Cysero had ever invented, loosely termed the Index Book. When opened, it could become any book in Warlic or Maya's collection with just a quick spell and the book title.

Tossing a pwetty pwetty pwincess flake to Avatre, who settled down with the food held daintily between her paws, Vaneria started to search for anything about portals or time travel. Seeing that their cousin would not be moving any time soon, Henna and Nightflower went looking for something else to do.

* * *

Like most intelligent rogues (the others either wised up or got eaten in Doomwood) Nightflower loved maps. As confusing as this castle was turning out to be, a map would probably be very useful in the immediate future.

It shouldn't be too hard. If Nightflower could navigate that bloody Amityvale crypt in search of Thursday's favorite roses, then she could certainly find her way through Hogwarts!

That resolve lasted until the third time a set of staircases moved while she was half way up, and then gave way to a scream of frustration.

* * *

Henna, on the other hand, had very little to do that her companions were not already up to, and was therefore given a choice between talking to the Headmaster again, or braving the Hogwarts librarian to search for books on translocation.

Henna tried to protest, but was bluntly informed that if Vaneria saw her again before dinnertime, Henna would be punted out of the window.

Seeing her cousin reach for her wind-staff, and Avatre look up from her meal, Henna left in search of the library.

* * *

Dinner was spent in uncomfortable silence. Introduced to the entire school in what Nightflower suspected were deliberately vague terms, along with the rumors that had been flying since mid-morning, the trio were the centre of nearly everyone's attention.

Still absorbed in her book and taking bites between pages, Vaneria had taken refuge at the 'Ravenclaw' table, where several others had also gone for the 'eat-and-read' idea, and left the questions to Henna and Nightflower at the 'Gryffindor' table. If the latter two managed to find time to eat more than a few pieces of bread, Vaneria would be very surprised.

Avatre was also a topic of great interest. While the Wizarding world knew the basics about dragons, and had even separated them into different breeds, Avatre matched none of the colours, appearance, or distinctive traits of any 'known' species.

The obviously fond relationship between Avatre and her human carer, when most dragons viewed humans as food or annoyances to be tolerated, had people asking even more questions. Vaneria finally threatened to have Avatre bite them if they didn't leave her alone to finish her dinner.

The trio didn't stick around to answer questions after dinner, but went straight back to their rooms to continue research. A few hours later, Vaneria closed her index book (opened to a text on local geography) with a snap. "Well, the good news is that the portal was near Warlic's tower, so we know the probable cause. The bad news is that the portal was near Warlic's tower, which means Cysero was likely involved."

Cysero being involved in anything was almost always bad news, but at least now they had a starting point. Either way, it was almost midnight, and they would be up early the next day, so sleep was very advisable.

Changing into a nightgown and casting a shield to stop her cousins from reaching the largest bed long enough to claim it for herself, Vaneria slipped under the covers. Feeling Avatre's familiar weight settle over her legs, the young mage slipped into the land of dreams.

She could worry about this latest fiasco in the morning.

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_A/N: Well, here is the second chapter and I hope everyone is enjoying it so far. I try to keep at least one chapter ahead in my postings, so Chapter Three will be posted when Chapter Four (which I am half-way through) is finished. Comments and critique are very welcome, but flames will be used for __Avatre__ to play in__. Like it, hate it, don't care either way; tell me in a review._

_Thanks, Nat._


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: DragonFable belongs to Atrix Entertainment, and Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. Obviously, I own neither._

_Summary: See previous chapters._

* * *

**Chapter Three**

The second morning at Hogwarts heralded an ill start to a horrible week, as if the previous day hadn't been terrible enough.

In order to avoid Lady Celestina's tea, Vaneria tended to stock up on dragon food while she was there, and therefore had enough for several weeks. More, if she spaced it out. For reasons unknown, however, her pack did not hold human food nearly as well, so it seemed that the trio would be suffering the stares of Hogwarts for breakfast.

At breakfast, Henna and Nightflower had decided to get revenge for last night, and left all questions pertaining to Avatre and Vaneria (and there were many) for the mage herself to answer. To make matters worse, it seemed that Gryffindor was the 'brave' house, and unlike Ravenclaw, completely undeterred by threats of Avatre biting them.

After finally making it through breakfast, Vaneria had to explain to Hagrid that Avatre would not be a demonstration in his class while either she or Hagrid were still breathing.

Of course, Umbridge just had to over-hear the conversation and threaten to have Avatre forcibly removed to the 'Department for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures', at which point Henna's intervention was the only thing that saved Umbridge's life.

Stalking away from the High Inquisitor, after informing her that the only way the Ministry was getting its hands on Avatre was over Umbridge's dead body, Vaneria was promptly cornered by the Headmaster, who had decided that his 'favour' would be having the trio join some sort of Order, and a defence class for any who wanted to take it.

Henna and Nightflower had been as pleased as Vaneria about the idea (read: not at all), but had little choice in the matter, as Vaneria flatly refused to do it on her own. Although, the 'defence class' was not entirely a bad idea. Creator knew that the students certainly weren't learning anything useful in the regular defence class.

All this led to her current position; standing in front of a large group of students interested in defence, while her cousins were lucky enough to be chasing after the sneevil. Oh, well, first things first. "Welcome to Extra-Curricular Defence. Half of this class will be learning how to defend yourself without the use of magic, so if anyone feels that such a method is beneath them, please leave now."

Much to her pleasure, a large number of students stood and left, grumbling about 'uncouth brawling'. Smirking to herself, Vaneria turned back to the rest of the class. "The other half of the class will be learning to defend yourself with magic unlike what you are currently learning. It will involve dedication and hard work, and I will not teach anyone unwilling to make the effort. Anyone not taking this seriously will leave and will not come back."

Several more students left, leaving Vaneria with about half of the original number. Looking around at them, Vaneria sighed. "Two more things before we begin. First: Ask questions; understanding your power is nearly as important as learning how to use it. Second: While reading and knowledge will certainly help you, it is also a question of aptitude. If you do not have the potential, then that is it."

A bushy-haired girl in Gryffindor colours looked horrified, as did several Ravenclaws. Vaneria fought the temptation to laugh as she displayed her staff. "We will be working primarily with elements. This is the staff of the Four Winds, and works best against the earth-oriented. You will not be touching it until I say otherwise." She pulled a plain wooden staff, her default weapon, out of her pack. "This is a beginner's staff. You will come up, one by one, and we will see if you have the necessary potential. Yes, Miss…?"

The bushy-haired girl had raised her hand, looking mildly desperate. "Hermione Granger, ma'am. What happens if we don't have the potential?"

Vaneria shrugged. "Then you have the choice between dropping the class, or participating in just the practical portion. If you really wish, I can lend you a book on the theory, but as I said, either you have the gift or you don't. Now, who wants to go first?"

* * *

Several very long hours later, Vaneria dropped into a chair by the fire, completely worn out. When she returned home, Warlic was going to get a very sincere apology for all she had put him through as an apprentice.

Several more students had left upon the discovery that they did not have the potential to become mages, although whether or not Henna and Nightflower would have to deal with them was still up for debate.

Avatre curled up in her lap, and Vaneria ran an idle hand over her baby dragon as she leaned back and closed her eyes. At some point, she needed to visit the Hogwarts library and update her index book; maybe they had something on portals.

Right now, however, all she wanted to do was close her eyes and thank the Creator that Henna and Nightflower would be dealing with the next two defence classes.

Unfortunately, thanking the Creator only took so long, even using three words instead of one, and Vaneria pulled out her Mage Journal to record the day's events. She wondered if the phrase '_have died and gone to snowy hell'_ was too dramatic, and decided that it was. Besides, nearly everyone she knew had used that phrase during the Dragesvard War.

* * *

As bad a day as Vaneria was having, Henna and Nightflower were faring even worse. Fighting your way through unfamiliar forests was bad in the first place, but when you added in all kinds of unfamiliar creatures, most of whom viewed you as a snack, things became downright miserable.

The only semi-blessing in the whole mess was that Sneevils were not the most subtle of creatures, and are easy to track. On the up-side, this meant that it was easy to find the box-thief. On the down-side, it also meant that something else had gotten to him first.

It also meant that, after they had spent three hours trying to get it down from the spider wed and finally managed to revive the little goblin, they were forced to spend a solid hour trying to make the Sneevil stop wailing about his lost box before they could start to interrogate him about who had stolen it.

Of course, just as they were starting to question him, the giant spiders came back and they had to fight their way out. Swiftly tying the sneevil up again and stuffing it in Henna's pack, they made their very quick way back to Hogwarts. Lucky Vaneria should be finished teaching by now and maybe she could help them out with a scrying spell.

* * *

When they returned to Hogwarts, Vaneria was writing in her journal and completely unsympathetic to their plight, saying only that they should save their whining until after their turn teaching the Hogwarts Students.

Sulking slightly, Henna and Nightflower left their cousin to her books and began discussing what to do with the sneevil. They needed to question it, certainly, but were unsure of the best way to do that. Sneevils were notoriously tight-lipped when it came to their precious boxes.

Meanwhile, Vaneria had finished writing and picked up yet another book. Henna was busy exchanging woven-vine-ropes for something stronger when the sneevil broke loose and made a dash for freedom.

Unfortunately, the quickest way to the door involved getting past Vaneria and her book. Interrupting or disturbing any mage while they were reading, Vaneria more so than most, was generally considered stupid, but the little goblinkind was desperate. Taking a run-up, he tried to scramble over her chair.

There was a flash of light, a loud crash and an indignant yell, and the sneevil was out cold, trussed up like a chicken as Vaneria glared at it. Transferring a slightly less vicious glare to her cousins, Vaneria returned to Avatre and whatever magic text she was currently reading.

The baby dragon made a sound suspiciously like a snicker as Nightflower and Henna exchanged exasperated looks. Now they would have to wait hours before the sneevil returned to the land of consciousness. Mages were so bloody touchy about their books!

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_A/N: And the third chapter is up. I know it took a while, but I've been very busy and had a bad case of writer's block. Anyway, reviews are both helpful and very much appriciated._

_Thanks, Nat _


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: Not mine and never will be. *Sigh*._

_Summary: See previous chapters._

* * *

**Chapter Four**

"_Magical Portals, to travel so swift,  
__Teleportation and dimensional rift.  
__Texts from shelves to my Index Book,  
__Come to me and let's take a look."_

As soon as the words left her lips, volumes began flying off the shelves of the Hogwarts library, zooming toward their table. One by one, they hovered over the Index book, long enough for Vaneria to tap them with her Wand of Clarity, then flew back to their shelves.

Watching with great interest as Vaneria worked, Henna and Nightflower contemplated providing running commentary, but decided against it when a book shot dangerously close to their heads on its way back to the bookshelf. Vaneria's dangerous smirk indicated that this was not an accident, so they chose to keep quiet.

The last book returned to the shelves just as Madam Pince rounded the corner. Waiting until the Librarian of Doom left again, Vaneria tapped the Index Book again.

"_New Knowledge is gained  
__And we've had our fun,  
__New books are ingrained  
__And the spell is done."_

Henna and Nightflower snickered at the ending spell, but stopped abruptly when their cousin glared and raised her wand in their direction. Leaning heavily toward self-preservation, they left for the self-defence class. Vaneria was probably over-dramatizing things; it couldn't be as bad as she had described.

* * *

Teaching self-defence wasn't as bad as Vaneria had described; it was worse. Everyone was enthusiastic, perhaps a bit too enthusiastic, but all of them seemed to view it as an excuse to hit their schoolyard nemesis, rather than learn to fight properly.

Almost none of the students seemed willing to listen, or even watch as Henna and Nightflower demonstrated the proper moves, and the few that did kept whispering about how they couldn't wait to finish this lesson so they could see what they would be doing next with Vaneria.

Of course, Vaneria _would_ choose that exact moment to stroll past, taking Avatre for a walk. Gritting her teeth at her cousin's 'I Told You So' smirk, Henna snapped. "If you don't start paying attention in **this** lesson, I will see to it that you spend Vaneria's **next** lesson here to make up for it!"

Most of the students started paying attention after that, giving the twins a chance to walk them through the basics. Henna couldn't wait until they reached one-on-one demonstrations and got a rude wake-up call by being dumped on their backsides.

The wizards of this world really were too reliant on their brand of magic. The mages of Lore may be most effective against numbered opponents and fighting from a distance, but at least they didn't underestimate the value of a good kick in the shins or whack over the head!

Now, if they could just get these children past holding a sword or dagger properly, rather than hopping around after dropping it on their foot, they might make some actual progress.

A loud yelp from someone in green and silver, and a louder, non-magical curse of frustration from someone else in red and gold, made Nightflower close her eyes with a sigh and a plea for patience.

She didn't care if the fate of Lore and all of its various related dimensions hung in jeopardy; when they made it back to Lore and Falconreach, she was never taking an apprentice!

* * *

Vaneria absently dodged one of the Whomping Willow's flailing branches as Avatre darted back out and dropped the ball at the mage's feet.

Levitating the ball, (touching something that had been in a Fire-Dragon's mouth tended to result in burnt fingers) and sending it flying in a different direction, Vaneria wondered what all the fuss regarding the tree was about.

The trees in Doomwood were much more vicious, and the Whomping Willow didn't even move, apart from the branches, so it couldn't be that dangerous, as long as you paid attention to where you were walking.

Speaking of trees, Avatre was flapping back from where she had caught the ball about halfway between Vaneria and the Forbidden Forest. Levitating the ball again and calculating that they had about three more catches before the ball melted, Vaneria sent it rocketing straight up into the air and was nearly bowled over as Avatre shot after it.

Smiling after her dragon, Vaneria looked back to where her cousins were finishing up with their half of the self-defence class and didn't bother to hide her smirk. She had warned them, so it was hardly Vaneria's fault if one of them had a nervous breakdown because they hadn't listened to or believed her.

Even so, perhaps she would let them simmer down a bit before she went back in. Dinner wasn't for another hour, anyway, and it was important to spend time bonding with your baby dragon.

* * *

Half an hour later found Vaneria slowly wandering back into the castle, and her cousins collapsed in their shared room, mentally cursing Dumbledore and his Self Defense lessons to Xan's Fortress and back.

Five minutes later, they were glad that they had kept it to mental cursing, as Dumbledore sailed in, followed by Professors McGonagall and Umbridge. "Ah, Miss and Miss Dragonblade, here you are. Would you accompany us to the courtyard; there is something you may find of interest."

Movement of any kind, especially all the way down to the courtyard, was not on Henna or Nightflower's list of Things to Do, but they recognized the look in Dumbledore's eye. It was the one found all too frequently in the eyes of their paternal cousin, Ash. The look that meant that they would end up doing it anyway, so they might as well give in now to avoid nagging.

Letting out a quiet sigh and hoping that whatever it was wouldn't take up too much time or energy, the twins pulled each other to their feet and followed the Headmaster back out.

Waiting in the courtyard were two students; one a bushy-haired girl (Hermione, if Henna recalled correctly) and an energetic boy in the blue-and-bronze of Ravenclaw, who wasted no time in blurting out the 'something of interest'. Hermione looked ready to strangle him for speaking first. "We have found a spell that opens portals. It is complicated, but it might help us get you back home."

Henna and Nightflower exchanged excited looks. Vaneria would be back from her walk soon, and they could get the Dragon Box and get out of here! Still, growing up with a Mage for a maternal cousin, and Nythera's family within walking distance, left you with a healthy sense of caution when 'Complicated Spells' were involved. "That sounds wonderful, but how does it work?"

Perhaps a bit too eager to impress, Terry Boot started to read the spell to them, unaware of the light starting to glow behind him. The teachers had started to look excited when Vaneria entered the courtyard at a run, her face panicked. "NO! That's really not –"

She was cut off by a blinding flash of light, which sent everyone flying, followed by a loud bang and a louder, non-magical, curse. When they could see again, it was obvious that the spell had worked – sort of.

Someone had been focusing on finding the Sneevil before they went home, which resulted in a portal appearing – and dumping at least fifteen Sneevils in the courtyard. Of course, Sneevils tend to recover from surprise quickly and promptly scattered. Avatre pounced on one, Nightflower and Henna took on a group of three, and Vaneria threw up a shield around the Wizarding bystanders.

That took care of five Sneevils, if you included the one who slammed into the shield and was knocked unconscious, but that still left at least ten or fifteen running around the castle.

Damn it!

* * *

Chasing down the sneevils, who only seemed to multiply as they went, took a lot longer than they would have hoped, and by the end of it, everyone was tired, cranky and ready to punch something.

That made for a perfect opportunity to interrogate the sneevil that had been captured the previous day about the whereabouts of the Dragon Box, but they needed to find a suitable room to do so, which meant asking the Headmaster. The Headmaster who was unfortunately in a meeting with several of the rest of the staff.

Now Henna and Nightflower were off making sure that all the sneevils were taken care of, while Vaneria was stuck trying not to fall asleep waiting for the staff meeting to be over. Sadly, it looked like that would be a long time coming, as the High Inquisitor rambled on about how the Ministry of Magic would not allow such things and 'Minister Fudge' would be highly displeased. Vaneria thought that Umbridge and Mayor Rayf of Falconreach would get on wonderfully together.

Unable to stifle a loud yawn, Vaneria rolled her eyes as Umbridge shot the young mage a glare that was probably supposed to be intimidating. "Do you have something you would like to share with the rest of us, Miss Sparhawk?"

Repressing her irritation with these people and their obsession with Family names (There were very few families in Lore who even had Surnames, and "Miss Sparhawk" always made her look around for her father), Vaneria smiled dangerously. "Several things, actually. Are you sure that you want to hear them?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Vaneria saw several of the professors trying to hide smirks or outright laughter. Whatever Umbridge might think, the High Inquisitor was nowhere near as popular as she might like to pretend.

Umbridge graced Vaneria with a wordless snarl in response, quickly covering it with a sickeningly sweet smile. "That's all right, Dear. I'm sure such an important and lengthly conversation can wait a while."

Vaneria rolled her eyes again and sat back, resigning herself to the rest of a long meeting. Her cousins had _better_ appreciate all she was going through just for one bloody dragon egg!

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_A/N: The next chapter is up! I wasn't sure how Mages in Lore do spells, so I made it that complex magic requires complex spells, whereas the more common things just require a staff/wand and possibly a few words. If anyone knows anything about it, please tell me._

_Like it or hate it, reviews and comments are very welcome. Hopefully the next chapter won't take too long._

_Thanks, Nat._


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Fable. Deal with it._

_Summary: See previous chapters._

* * *

**Chapter Five**

It took a while, but Vaneria finally got permission from Dumbledore to use a private room to get some answers from the sneevil. Unfortunately, Umbridge found out and invited herself along, which made things much more difficult when the sneevil kept snickering about "Toad-Lady calls sneevil stupid. Needs a mirror.

While amusing, this was not exactly conductive to actually finding out anything, and it wasn't until Vaneria pulled out her _Hunters Conflagration_ and incinerated a nearby box, prompting heartbroken wails, that they actually started to get anywhere.

Two hours and five more incinerated boxes later, (this particular sneevil was a stubborn little wretch) the sneevil finally caved and told them where to find the Dragon Egg. Much to everyone's dismay, it was still in the Forbidden Forest.

Knocking the sneevil out again, the mage, rogue and warrior ran to find it, blasting a few giant spiders along the way, and arrived at the same time as a group of wizards claiming to be from the Ministry of Magic.

None of the cousins were in the mood for this, and things had just come to blows (and fireballs) when a smirking Umbridge showed up. "Now, really, dears, I don't see why you feel the need to act like this. The Ministry is working for the good of the world, but we must all do our part. The Ministry just wants to make sure this thing is safe, that's all."

If anyone, even the wizards, believed that, then Vaneria had a nice dorm in the Necropolis University/Sally's Dollhouse to sell them. Unfortunately, the trio were outnumbered, and could hear several angry spiders on their way back, and so were forced to hand the egg over.

Henna doubted that anything the wizards tried would effect the notoriously-magic-resistant egg, but that didn't mean they had to like the situation. Vaneria stalked past the wizards, not bothering to feign politeness, or apologize as she rammed into Umbridge. "Sanctimonious Hag."

Nightflower thought that Nythera may have rubbed off on her cousin a bit too much during their shared apprenticeship, but couldn't really bring herself to disagree as she followed the others, letting the wizards find their own way out. People and dangerous creatures tended to flee from pissed-off mages and as there were several of said dangerous creatures nearby, hopefully one of them would run over Umbridge on its way.

Back in their rooms at Hogwarts, Vaneria pulled several regents out of her pack and set up a viewing spell, watching vindictively as the Ministry wizards stumbled their way through the Forbidden Forest. When they finally emerged, looking very much the worse for wear, she smirked and returned to her Index Book. "British Ministry of Magic."

Henna and Nightflower exchanged glances. Their cousin had never been easy to understand, but this was taking things a bit far. The twins exchanged a swift and silent argument before Henna tentatively spoke up. "Vaneria? Why are you reading about the local Wizarding Government?"

Vaneria didn't bother to look up from her reading, wondering why things that seemed obvious to her always seemed to bypass the rest of the population. "I'm checking to see if they have some kind of re-claiming process. Meanwhile, you two can go and annoy Umbridge and see if you can make her give the egg back."

Rogues were very good at making a nuisance of themselves, and Henna usually followed her sister's lead. So, when Nightflower gave her best wickedly gleeful smirk and shot out of the door, Henna sighed and ran after her twin. Watching them go, Vaneria smiled faintly as she envisioned the oncoming chaos. Bloody Umbridge.

Turning back to her book and finding the chapter on claims, Vaneria's smile faltered. Her family had expected her return, or at least a letter, almost three days ago, and her father and brothers tended to worry. A lot. What would they be thinking now?

* * *

_Falconreach Tower, Lore…_

"WHERE IS SHE?" Lord Sparhawk, one of the Guardians of Falconreach, roared as he paced their room, before turning to glare at Princess Victoria.

Princess Victoria, a.k.a. Robina the Hood, was the last one to have seen or spoken to Henna, Nightflower and Vaneria, and as King Alteon officially 'didn't know' about the vigilante exploits of his eldest daughter, she was stuck trying to explain things to the very worried families. Since all she knew was that they were chasing after a sneevil with a dragon egg, it was not going well.

Vaneria's brothers; a paladin, a ninja and a ranger, leaned against the wall, as Ehlania fretted in her husband's arms in a chair nearby. Near the door, Zhoom listened silently as Nythera lurked in the shadows, both having been called in the hope that Vaneria had taken a detour to visit a friend, rather than disappearing into thin air.

Ash had been sent out of the room after asking if he would become a knight for rescuing three fair maidens, and was now at Yulgar's forge, with Konnan keeping a stern eye on him. Despite the gathering, however, no one had any idea where the (in one case reluctantly) questing trio had vanished to.

Suddenly, Nythera stiffened and cautiously spoke up. "My geography isn't the best, but wouldn't they have disappeared somewhere near Cysero's experiment lab, if they were ten minutes dead sprint from Robina's base?"

Sparhawk's ranger son, Maine, had done a fair bit of work in that area, and swiftly ran through some mental calculations before letting lose a stream of very descriptive curses. Ignoring their aunt's disapproving look, the paladin brother, Karai, sighed. "I'll take that as a yes, then."

Sparhawk's wife, Alyss, sent her sons a quelling glance and placed a comforting hand on her husband's arm. "It will be all right, dear heart. Vaneria knows how to take care of herself, as do the twins. All of us will be keeping a look out and trying to discover what happened. I'm sure they'll be back soon."

* * *

_Undisclosed Location, England…_

A figure in black robes and a white mask bowed before a tall, skeletal man with distinctly serpentine features. "We have confirmed it, My Lord. A strange Dragon Egg, from a breed of dragons kept as obedient pets and a portal to a world of pure Magic."

The snake-man smiled; a far more terrifying sight than if he had filled the air with Unforgivable Curses. This was just what he needed.

When the Potter boy had managed to escape the trap in the graveyard last May, it had proven both that he had an incredible amount of luck, and that the wretched boy might prove to be a tougher opponent than he had originally anticipated.

Like most of the more intelligent Slytherins (He firmly believed that the like of Crabbe and Goyle were only in that noble house by virtue of their bloodlines) Voldemort did not believe in confronting his more dangerous foes unless the odds were firmly in his favour.

Thirteen years as a bodiless wraith was more than enough to teach him that particular lesson, and until he learned the full contents of the Prophecy concerning Potter and himself, Voldemort would operate under the theory that the odds were not in his favour.

A pet dragon, or even some kind of weapon or magical artefact that Dumbledore and Potter had no defence to, was just the thing to even or possibly tip the scales, this time in the Dark Lord's favour.

The Death Eater who had brought the news was still kneeling before him, waiting to be either cursed or dismissed. As the minion had delivered good news, Voldemort decided not to curse his servant. "These are good tidings, and I am pleased. You will assemble a team, and find the way to this other world. Find something with great power, and then return. And send Lucius to me on your way out."

The Death Eater kissed the hem of his master's robes and hurried out before Voldemort could change his mind about using the Cruciatus Curse. Five minutes later, Lucius Malfoy entered, also reluctant to test the Dark Lord's patience. "You sent for me, My Lord?"

Sometimes, Voldemort wondered if the Malfoy connections were really worth putting up with the family. If Voldemort hadn't sent for the man, then he wouldn't be there. "Yes. Use your connections in the Ministry of Magic. Find out where they are keeping that egg."

Malfoy bowed and left, leaving the Dark Lord to his thoughts. He would have to adjust his plans for these new developments; it was foolish to play around with objects, especially powerful ones, until you knew how they worked and what they did.

He would also need to have the Death Eaters with school-aged children contact their offspring; he wanted to know if the three newcomers at Hogwarts posed any threat, what power they had, and if they were likely to be persuaded to switch sides at a later point.

* * *

_The Sandsea, Lore, several days later…_

Before she had been killed, Zhoom's mother, the last of the Sandsea elves, had taught him the value of a promise. She had also taught him not to waste energy worrying over things he couldn't control.

Zhoom knew that there was little he could do about the missing Mage and her cousins, no matter how much he wished otherwise, so he focused on the promise he had made to Vaneria: to keep the Orb of Light safe.

Zhoom considered his promised word to be as binding as a contract signed in blood, even when he didn't consider the other party as a genuine friend. After facing Sek-Duat and his various monsters together, and being nice enough not to rub certain events in his face, Vaneria was counted among the very few that Zhoom felt actual affection for.

The Dunelord was annoyingly persistant, but it did get the message and died after about the 20th time Vaneria and Avatre fought it. Even so, no-one felt particularly inclined to make the journey over the stretch of desert known as 'The Anvil of the Sun', and into the lair of a terrible monster that may or may not still be alive, just to check.

This made it the perfect place to hide something.

Zhoom's sand-elf heritage gave him a great resistance to the desert conditions, and he had definite confirmation that the Dunelord was out of commission, so he made the journey about once a week, to check on the Orb and re-set the traps that he had installed.

The traps involved some of Vaneria's more creative-but-mostly-harmless ideas, given teeth when the usually-gentle Mage wasn't looking, so on the rare occasion that someone did go exploring, they didn't pose any great problem when Zhoom found them again.

Today proved to be the one exception.

A small group of people in unbelievably impractical clothing were wandering around the cave, holding wands that shot coloured jets of light.

Zhoom had not survived this long by charging in recklessly, so he chose to watch the intruders to see what they were capable of before he did something about them.

They seemed similar to Mages in that they used some kind of magic, but their kind involved words and complex motions, and seemed restricted to wands.

They were also like Mages in that their magic did not make them invulnerable, proven by the sight of several who had fallen to the traps, and another who was suddenly yanked into the air, his bones softening like quicksand as he was tied into a very intricate human knot.

Now, unfortunately, the few remaining intruders were drawing very close to the alcove where the Orb of light was hidden. Two more fell to Zhoom's arrows before the last five spotted him and Zhoom was forced to dive for cover as the leader ran for the Orb and two others opened a portal.

They didn't seem very good at portals, however, as it began to close again before it was even fully opened. This caused the intruders to stop attacking Zhoom so as to not be left behind. Moving faster than he ever had before, Zhoom ran after them, pushing the slowest to the side (the unfortunate man was promptly flattened by a boulder in the last of the traps) and diving through the portal just as it snapped closed.

They re-appeared near a large mansion, which thankfully looked nothing like the one in Amityville, but also looked nothing like the posher houses in Falconreach. Towns and large houses were not Zhoom's usual terrain, but rangers were, by nature, adaptable, so he quietly followed the strangers, who seemed to be trying to get their complaints about the mission out of the way before they came within hearing range of the house.

Keeping to the shadows, Zhoom listened carefully. It seemed that these people worked for a 'Lord Voldemort', who had found a different world, presumably Lore, and was looking for objects of power. There was also mention of three strange women in a place called 'Hogwarts', who came from Lore and apparently posed some kind of threat.

If that didn't indicate where Vaneria and her cousins had disappeared to, then nothing did, and hopefully they were in possession of more information that he was.

Now all Zhoom had to do was _find_ this Hogwarts place.

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_A/N: Chapter five is up! Sorry it took so long, but I've been sick like you wouldn't believe, and barely had the energy to get up for a drink of water, let alone write._

_As always, reviews are very much appreciated, and very useful when pointing out where I've done something wrong or made a mistake.  
They also make me feel very happy, which is a welcome change from the complete misery of running a fever and coughing up a lung every five minutes._

_Thanks, Nat_


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonfable or Harry Potter. Deal with it._

_Summary: See previous chapters_

* * *

**Chapter Six**

_Dragonholme, not far from Falconreach, Lore…_

Nythera sulked as she sat in her room, trying to decide what to do next. Her parents and Warlic still refused to give her back full access to her magic, despite Nythera's wish to find her first – well, only – friend. Few people had the patience (or reflexes) to deal with Nythera's moods, and the rest of Lore was still annoyed about the whole 'Elemental War' fiasco.

Complaining about the unfairness of life as a half-dragon teen, however, was abruptly put on hold as a portal opened and a group of people in black robes and white masks poured out, firing spells everywhere.

Dragons are notoriously short-tempered, especially adolescent ones, and just because Nythera didn't have_ full_ access to her magic did not mean that she was defenceless. A blast of dark purple energy flew from her hands, flattening three intruders and incinerating a fourth.

Nythera fixed the remaining invaders with her best 'Pissed-Off-And-Dangerous-Teen' glare, picking up several potion bottles. "Anyone else feel like making me mad?"

The strangers looked at each other, and obviously decided that a group attack would be the best move. Sadly, they were right, and Nythera swiftly had her hands full. Even so, a half-dragon sorceress, even only partially trained, was nothing to laugh at, as the newcomers quickly discovered.

Unfortunately, Nythera was also discovering that one of Vaneria's father's more complex-sounding proverbs was annoyingly correct. _'It's Quality over Quantity, but Quantity has a Quality of its own'_ may have sounded like a warrior spouting nonsense, but the sheer number of opponents was slowly wearing Nythera down.

It was rare for Nythera to feel any kind of relief or joy at the sound of her parents returning from somewhere, but this was an exception. Relief or not, however, the distraction cost her, with one of the hostile strangers getting a shot through.

Before she felt a strange jerking sensation in her belly and lost consciousness, Nythera heard her mother roaring in her dragon form, and wondered just how much trouble she was going to be in this time.

* * *

_Undisclosed Location, England…_

Lord Voldemort was not the sort of person you would expect to have his feet up on a table while reading the _Daily Prophet_, but even Dark Lords need some form of relaxation. That said, Voldemort was not pleased to be interrupted by six Death Eaters and an unconscious teenage girl appearing three feet in the air and landing in a tangled heap in front of him.

Nythera was the first to recover and extract herself from the pile, landing several well-aimed kicks as she did so. Most people would have the common decency to wince in sympathy, but Voldemort was a Dark Lord, and Dark Lords did not wince. Certainly not in sympathy, or at Death Glares from half-dragon sorceresses.

She might not look like much, in Voldemort's opinion, but he knew from experience that not everything was as it seemed. Ignoring the pained whimpers from his minions, who were slowly regaining consciousness, Voldemort welcomed the scowling newcomer. "Welcome, child. I am glad to have your help in our plans."

Nythera had never taken well to being called a child, and liked being told what to do even less. With the fact that she had been kidnapped, she was not a happy 200-year-old teenager. "Who the hell are you, and what makes you think that I'd help you cross the room, let alone with whatever you plans you have?"

It was not the first time a captive had refused to do what Voldemort had kidnapped them for, but it was the first time someone had looked at him like some sort of insect while turning him down. Snarling, he threw a Cruciatus Curse at the defiant girl.

Luckily, Nythera had better reflexes than most gave her credit for, and dodged as she retaliated with a blast of purple energy, forcing Voldemort to dive out of the way.

Nythera was just readying another blast, when a Death Eater shakily managed to stand up behind her and throw a Stunning Spell. Dragons are resistant to magic, but not invulnerable, and Nythera dropped like a lead balloon.

Many miles away, a young woman bolted upright, her eyes wide with a terror that she could not name, and a feeling that things were about to become Very Bad Indeed.

* * *

Multi-tasking between reading a library fiction book, petting Avatre, and smirking as her cousins tried to teach a defence class, Vaneria attempted to hold back a yawn. She had woken suddenly at two hours past midnight, then tossed and turned until daybreak, when she gave it up as a lost cause.

Avatre cooed softly as her human's eyes drifted closed and the gentle petting slowed. Well, Avatre supposed that Humans needed looking after, too, and since Vaneria's dam and sire were absent, and her nest-mates busy, Avatre would just have to do it herself.

The baby dragon blew softly on the Warrior-nest-mate's discarded cloak; enough to warm the cloth, but not enough to set it on fire, and then nudged the ball of fabric toward her human.

A few careful tugs on the lion-skin cape that her human wore had Vaneria slipping to the side as Avatre flew into the air and carefully took her human's robe in her teeth, lowering her down so that Vaneria's head rested against the warmed and rolled up cloak.

Feeling very pleased at taking such good care of her human (a few rips in the clothing were easily mended, right?) Avatre hissed at the Hogwarts nestlings that had sneaked over to watch. They were supposed to be with the Rogue and Warrior fledglings, and if they had been let off, they could go and find their own nest-guardians!

The Hogwarts nestlings ran back to whatever they were supposed to be doing, and Avatre settled down next to her human. You were never too old to snuggle with mummy, after all, and taking care of people was hard work.

* * *

Nightflower snickered as she watched her cousin standing in front of a mirror, roughly the same shade as a boiled lobster, carefully applying a spell to prevent/get rid of sunburn or heat-stroke.

Henna gave her twin a disapproving look, while Vaneria ignored them both. The spell was simple, but required a lot of concentration. It was very popular in the Sandsea (for obvious reasons) and anyone who went questing there, unless they were very masochistic, picked it up very quickly.

It was also commonly used, although to a lesser extent, in Osprey Cove, and the fact that non-mage residents were usually willing to pay for such a spell certainly didn't hurt, either.

Making a final pass over her face and thanking the Creator that her Mage's robe covered most of her body anyway, Vaneria turned away from the mirror and went back to her books, shooing Avatre away from the middle of the bed and onto a pillow, and then sat down, resting the Index book on her crossed legs and opening it to _Current Ministry Policies_, a self-updating book that most found more useful as a sleeping aid than as a resource.

Accepting that they would not be gaining Vaneria's attention any time soon, Henna and Nightflower wandered out of the room again. Umbridge's latest idea to keep people in line involved having the various instructors report to her on the progress of their students. The Hogwarts Professors viewed this with a great deal of irritation. The twins viewed it as yet another way to annoy the High Inquisitor.

Waiting until her cousins had left the room, Vaneria closed her book and sighed; she missed home. She missed the mostly-calm environment of her house, she missed her family, she missed visiting Nythera and the Sandsea, she even missed attempting to dodge Aria and her blasted 'Pets'.

For the first time since arriving in this strange world, the young mage allowed herself to worry about the future. Even if they did find the Dragon Egg, how would they return home?

* * *

Magical means of concealment were usually very effective, but even the best ideas have flaws and loopholes.

For example, the fact that somewhere was Unplottable made very little difference when a person knew where it was anyway. Also, while Hogwarts may have been warded to be invisible to curious, unsuspecting Muggles, that didn't stop those with passive magic, such as House Elves, Unicorns, Merfolk, etc., from coming and going as they pleased.

Like everyone else, Elves had to be trained to cast actual spells, but they still had their own, innate magic that gave them a strong resistance to extreme conditions and a gift for finding landmarks or places of shelter. The second trait ran particularly strong in the Ice-Elves, who inhabited the frozen wastes of the north, and the Sand-Elves, who spent their lives in the scorching desert.

Zhoom's Sand-Elf heritage combined with his experience and natural skill to make him one of the best trackers in the history of Lore, a talent that he was putting to good use as he searched for a certain trio of Mage, Warrior and Rogue.

Hogsmeade Village sounded very much like Hogwarts School, and even if the two were not related, the 'Three Broomsticks' sounded enough like the 'Seven Broomsticks' (a name that had sent the Yagas of Amityvale into an angry rant) to be an inn for magic users. Every town had at least one inn, where people went to drink and gossip with each other, meaning that inns always proved to be a good place to go when you were looking for information on anything.

Sure enough, a few drinks with a very chatty drunk told Zhoom that Hogsmeade's Pet shop-owner was having an affair with the Mayor's wife, the Joke-store proprietor's daughter was pregnant out of wedlock and that the Innkeeper's sister had just given birth to her fourth baby.

A few more drinks and a careful question or so told Zhoom that Hogwarts was only a few miles up the road and that the students of said school were due for a trip to Hogsmeade in two days. This was apparently a frequent event looked upon with anticipation by students and resignation by the Hogsmeade residents.

You didn't get to be Lore's greatest Bounty Hunter without picking up a few things, such as the fact that the more people there were going to and from a place, the less attention was paid to the individual characters, unless they had very distinguishing features. On his trek from the Dark Mansion to Hogsmeade, Zhoom had managed to 'acquire' several changes of the 'local' clothing, as his own attire had drawn too much attention.

Gold was accepted as currency almost everywhere, and was one of the few things that Zhoom had in plentiful supply. A few words and several coins to the Innkeeper, a Madam Rosmerta, and Zhoom had a place to stay for a week. Another twenty gold coins bought a temporary spell that changed the interior of a room to whatever the inhabitant wanted.

Setting his bag underneath a palm tree, Zhoom relaxed in the familiar heat of a sun-baked desert, before returning downstairs. He had two days until the Hogwarts students visited, and he might as well see what other information (aside from the local neighbourhood gossip) he could gather in the mean time.

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_A/N: Hi! Chapter six is up after not too much of a wait.  
__Unfortunately, Chapter seven might take a bit longer, __unfortunately, as my computer crashed, taking all of my word documents with it. That meant that I had to re-write almost everything, including my resume, cover letter, Original Writing, Miscellaneous Crap,__ and__ at least 186 fan fiction documents, not to mention several half-written ones.  
__So re-writing and backing up my files, along with several other stories, may mean a slight delay in posting._

___As always, Reviews are inspiring, Constructive Criticism is welcome and Flames are laughed at. Take five seconds (or more, if you like) to tell me what you think._

_Thanks, Nat._


	7. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonfable or Harry Potter. Deal with it._

_Summary: See previous chapters_

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Chapter Seven

Two days passed quickly enough, and Zhoom used the time to see what else he could discover about Hogwarts. Right now, Zhoom was sitting at a small table at the Three Broomsticks with a few other villagers, a mug of ale in front of him as he listened to the surrounding conversation.

As with all stories, there were differing accounts, and most of it was based off second- or third-hand information, heard from a relative who attended Hogwarts, or from a friend who had a sibling/child at the school.

There was also a lot of discussion over the Head of the school, with some claiming that he was mad, and others insisting that it was part of a plot by the Wizarding Government.

Zhoom preferred the second theory, which was only strengthened by the revelations that not only had the Minister installed one of his underlings as 'High Inquisitor', which certainly sounded ominous, but Headmaster Dumbledore had started a 'Self-Defence' program, instructed by three women who even the worst of the gossips knew nothing about.

By the dramatic increase in the noise outside, and the resigned sighs of the older patrons, it seemed as though the Hogwarts Students were arriving for the weekend visit. Throwing a few coins on the table, Zhoom excused himself from the group of unwitting informants, and went to find a good place to wait.

From what Vaneria had told him of her cousins, Henna and Nightflower would jump at the opportunity to explore Hogsmeade, and probably drag Vaneria with them. As Zhoom didn't actually know if they would go the Three Broomsticks at all, he needed to find somewhere on the way down from Hogwarts to catch at least one of the three cousins.

* * *

"Vaneria, can I see your sketchbook? Maybe there's something in there that we can use."

Part of being a Mage was having occasional visions, which were almost always vague, and seldom more than a brief glimpse of a scene that was yet to come. Even so, all mages tried to keep a sketch book around, in case knowledge of the vision came up later. Vaneria pointed at her backpack, "Resource compartment, and please be careful. Some of the things in there shouldn't be disturbed."

The warning '_Should not be disturbed'_ could mean anything from '_explodes /attacks on contact'_ to _'delicate/fragile'_ but should always be taken seriously. Locating the resource compartment, Henna noticed that there were several books, including the Index Book, a fantasy novel, and two others partially hidden underneath.

Spying the word 'Sketchbook', Henna pulled it out and flipped to the first page. The first drawing was of Vaneria's house back in Falconreach, with her family outside. Nightflower joined her as they skimmed the book. The Shadow of the Wind village at sunset… The sun rising over Osprey Cove… A small oasis in the Sandsea.

None of these were particularly helpful, and a quick glance at the artist's signature showed that only a few of them were Vaneria's. On the next page, however, they struck unrelated gold. This drawing was of Vaneria and a ranger sitting underneath a palm tree, body language indicating familiarity. Before they could speculate, however, a shadow fell across them.

Blushing furiously, Vaneria snatched that book away, reaching into her pack and handing Nightflower a different one. On closer inspection, this book had 'Mage's Sketchbook' in calligraphic script on the cover, while the first had simply 'Quest Sketchbook' written in a hasty scribble. "Wrong book, you idiots. Pay attention."

Nightflower sighed, flopping back onto the bed. "Why are we cooped up in here today, anyhow? Why couldn't we go to Hogsmeade with everyone else?"

Henna agreed with her twin. "Yes! All work and no play make Jane a dull girl. Let's go to the village."

* * *

Muttering darkly under her breath, Vaneria followed her excited cousins down the road to the nearby village. She admitted that the three of them could probably use a break, but mourned the loss of possible quiet time where she could just be by herself.

Normally, the young mage wouldn't have minded a short wander around, but she had more than her preferred quota of rowdy students at Hogwarts; she really didn't want to be in a position where she couldn't count on the class warning bell to interrupt and let her escape.

Spotting a bookstore, Vaneria made her way toward it, only to be grabbed as she passed an alley and dragged into the shadows. She was about to blast her attacker when a very familiar voice whispered in her ear. "You're losing your touch, 'Ria. Since when do you let people sneak up on you like this?"

Vaneria instantly stopped struggling and practically threw herself into the arms of her assailant. "Has anyone ever managed to avoid being ambushed by you? Don't think that I'm not thrilled to see you, Zhoom, but what are you doing here?"

Zhoom didn't immediately try to escape her hold. "In this exact spot: waiting for you. In what appears to be an alternate world: I was chasing a group of black-robed people who managed to steal the Orb of Light. About two thirds of their number is now rotting in the Dune Lord's lair, though, so it isn't all bad news. Yourself?"

Vaneria moved out of the ranger's arms with a sigh. "It's a long story, and we'll start to attract attention if we stay here much longer. Do you know anywhere that we can talk privately?

Zhoom nodded. "The Three Broomsticks should be busy enough by now for us to blend in, and I've rented a room there. The room would be best for privacy, if you aren't too worried about your reputation, and they have spells on the Higher Class ones to change them to the environment you ask for."

Sand Elves did not do well in cold and/or mountain climates, especially for long periods of time. Vaneria smiled as she led the way out of the alley, taking Zhoom's hand. "What reputation? There are plenty of Heroes in Lore, and the only thing that really makes me stand out is that I survived a dual-apprenticeship with Nythera." She took in the clothes Zhoom wore, "I have to admit, though, I liked the vest and trousers better than the robe."

Zhoom scowled. "So did I. Sadly, they were drawing too much attention. My ears were hard enough to conceal as it was."

A few minutes later, they were relaxing on the warm sand, next to a small pool, the four-poster bed a few feet away looking distinctly out-of-place.

Enjoying the appearance, if not the reality, of home, Zhoom started his side of the story. "I kept the Orb of Light safe, as you asked. Recently, however, people claiming to work for a 'Lord Voldemort' came sniffing around. They managed to find the Orb and break into where I had hidden it. I tracked them back to a portal they were using and found myself in this land."

Vaneria frowned. "Well, that isn't quite as bad as the Sek-Duat fiasco, but certainly not good. What made you seek out Hogwarts, though?"

Zhoom blinked. "They named a castle after a flower? That's the last time I complain about the Sandsea Inn. It seems that one of Voldemort's supporters resides here, and I find it easier to track someone when they're more or less in the same place. Though it would help if I knew what was going on and wasn't being held by these people. Their magic is very different than what I am used to."

Vaneria grimaced. "Don't compare me to them, please. I don't know all the details, but I'll explain what I can, if you have the time. Our own fiasco started when Lady Celestia dragged us into running a quest to find a Dragon Box…

* * *

The thing about the Wizarding World was that they put too much faith in magic. Trusting in the 'all-powerful' wards around Hogwarts, they were completely unprepared for someone to waltz through the gates, using no magic at all.

Muggles may have thought Hogwarts to be only a ruin, but the ward-casters hadn't counted on the scenario of an intruder knowing better in the first place and ignoring what their eyes told them. It was this arrogant faith that allowed the mercenary to make his way through the first two floors of Hogwarts before someone raised the alarm.

The intruder led them a merry chase, but was finally cornered near Gryffindor Tower.

Dodging a flung curse, the intruder spun to face them, revealing himself to be a young man, tall and muscular, with pointed ears and strange tattoos, standing in a room in a castle. His clothing was more suited to a desert than the Scottish Highlands in winter, and the way he gripped a curved scimitar as he glared around the room was in no way reassuring.

Zhoom was one of the best when it came to both fighting and evasion, but even he couldn't match six powerful wizards throwing unknown spells at the same time. This led to the current situation: the Hogwarts professors trying to interrogate him, and Zhoom skirting the questions.

Sand elves had natural mental shields, meaning that most truth or mind-reading spells didn't work on them. Threats of physical harm, or legal curses, either didn't work, or were shrugged off.

Finally, they resorted to having Umbridge approve and shoving a truth potion down Zhoom's throat, and were now listening to a tale as fantastic as the one from Vaneria, Henna and Nightflower. The thunderous scowl he was giving them did not help, and had actually caused Snape to raise an impressed eyebrow.

Perhaps it would have been easier if Umbridge wasn't hovering and getting in the way at every turn. "You say you are something called a 'sand-elf', you hunt down bandits, and you were guarding something called the Orb of Light before You-Know-Who, a person killed fourteen years ago, stole it? How stupid do you think I am?"

Zhoom glared at her. "Very, but that's beside the point. Besides, I don't know who, and you're the one asking the questions. Now, I have business to finish, so if you could let me go anytime soon…"

At that moment, Draco ran in, holding a large book and closely followed by a furious Vaneria. "Give that back, you slimy little – Zhoom!"

Draco blinked at her, not having noticed the rest of the room's occupants. "That book is unauthorized material; as a member of the Inquisitorial Squad, I have every right to confiscate it. And what's a Zhoom?"

Vaneria took advantage of his distraction and plucked the book out of his hands, 'accidentally whacking him upside the head as she did. "That book is my personal property, you worm. You have no business looking through my things. Zhoom is a 'who', not a 'what', and furthermore," the mage switched her glare to the rest of the room. "What is going on here?"

Henna and Nightflower slipped in more or less un-noticed while this new argument was going on. This was not as difficult as it sounded, as both Zhoom and Vaneria had an exceptional gift for holding people's attention, when they wanted to.

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A/N: Yes, I know it's been forever, but on the plus side, Chapter Seven is up.


	8. Chapter 8

_Disclaimer: No, still not mine. Isn't it obvious?_

_Summary: See Previous Chapters._

* * *

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

Intimidating or not, it was only a matter of time before Umbridge tried to assert her 'authority' again, so Zhoom and Vaneria made themselves scarce. Watching them go, Professor Sinistra blinked in surprise. "Who was that and how does your cousin know him? How did he get here?"

Nightflower thought for a moment. "The new guy is Zhoom, a ranger and mercenary from the Sandsea. Vaneria worked with him a few times during her apprenticeship and sometimes helps him out when things get out of hand there."

Henna snickered. "From the look of things, chasing down rebels isn't the _only_ thing they do, either. I wonder if Uncle knows about that."

Nightflower smirked in reply. "I doubt it, but you can't fault her taste. I'm guessing that the spell brought him here, somehow. We'll ask Vaneria when she gets back, but\ it may take a while."

Professor Umbridge glared at them. "And in the meantime, we are supposed to just put him up in Hogwarts, as well?"

Henna sighed. "Be thankful it wasn't Atrix, because then you'd really have a problem. If it's too much of a fuss, though, Zhoom would probably be more comfortable in Hogsmeade. You can ask him later."

* * *

Draco Malfoy had been assigned to follow the mage and ranger, but the two managed to shake him off with little difficulty. Zhoom looked after the boy then turned to Vaneria, raising an eyebrow in question. Vaneria sighed. "Think Drakath, except with different colouring, and somehow even less competent. Foolish brat with an over-inflated sense of his own importance and thinks he owns the world. Until he somehow manages to back it up, however, very few people take him seriously."

Zhoom nodded, but made no comment. The only time anyone took Drakath seriously was when he showed up to annoy you, and even then only paid attention long enough to kick his ass and make a witty remark. "Even so, you should be careful, 'Ria. I have a bad feeling about this 'High Inquisitor'.

Vaneria nodded. So she wasn't the only one who was uneasy about the whole thing. Glaring at a cluster of Fourth-Years, who had stopped to swoon, she continued walking. "A storm is coming, but until it hits, there is very little we can do about it."

Zhoom nodded, moving to lighter topics. "I hate situations like this. Give me action any time. But tell me, how is that baby dragon of yours?"

Like any proud mother, Vaneria lit up at the mention of her pet, and launched into a detailed description of Avatre's latest antics. Thriving on the latent magic that surrounded and infused Hogwarts, Avatre had grown to the size of a small pony, big enough to carry a rider, in an emergency. Vaneria was planning to start training her for that, as soon as she could find a suitable dummy.

* * *

Like the three cousins, Zhoom had been conscripted to the Order of the Phoenix, where all four were currently attending a meeting. As all they seemed to be doing right then was talking in circles, Zhoom and Snape appeared to be entertaining themselves by holding an unofficial contest that involved lurking in the shadows. At the moment Zhoom, who Sirius couldn't actually spot right now, was winning, as Snape had to be seen and heard to give his report.

The Potions Master was half-way through describing a prisoner who no-one knew what to do with, but who was apparently very important, when Zhoom betrayed his position with a loud snicker at the same time as Vaneria bolted upright, shrieking with laughter. Henna and Nightflower both thumped their heads on the table.

Snape looked annoyed, confirmed by his dangerously silky tone as he glared at them. "May I ask what is so amusing? The Dark Lord finding something important is seldom a good thing."

Stifling her giggles, Vaneria managed to pull herself together long enough to answer. "You've just described Nythera. She may be considered important, but I will be very surprised if your Dark Lord isn't cursing whoever caught her before a day is out. Nythera may act like a bratty teenager, but she is a force to be reckoned with, and hates having people tell her what to do."

Zhoom, Henna and Nightflower all winced. Henna and Nightflower had been too young to participate in the Elemental War, a full six years younger than their cousin, but they had heard stories. Even Zhoom, who was still irritated about the Death Eaters who had stolen the Orb of Light, wondered whether or not to feel sorry for Voldemort. Nythera was very powerful, and no-one would be forgetting the Elemental War anytime soon.

Friendships aside, mouthing off to the Forces of Nature and starting a war just because you had been grounded and your magic bound was a bit extreme. Various heroes were still trying to placate the Elemental Lords (and Ladies), who were still angry at Nythera in particular and everyone else as a whole.

Snape glared at them. "A friend of yours, is she?"

Vaneria shrugged. "We were apprenticed to the same Master, for a while. She's a friend in the same way that people like Robina or Valencia or Thyton are friends; you know them by name and help each other out and talk when you meet up, but you aren't necessarily that close."

* * *

The main difference between the Magic Users of Lore and the Magic users of this world was not so much the magic itself, but how they used it.

The mages of Lore knew the limitations of Magic, and used it as _needed_, wielding the power with little more than a thought, unless involved in a complex ritual. The witches and wizards of this world, in contrast, used magic for just about everything, but always required a wand movement and incantation.

In essence, while Vaneria could incinerate something/someone, or put them to sleep in an instant, or reverse most spells, even moglins hyped up on that blasted mogloween candy, levitating a table or turning a rabbit into a top hat was beyond her skill. Mostly because she never saw the point, and therefore never learned, but that was beside the point.

On the other hand, that was probably a good thing, as the very thought of the Hogwarts student population running around throwing fireballs or blasting each other with wind or energy made her cringe, and look for a good hiding spot. There was a reason that Mages only took one or two apprentices at a time

Of course, living in the same tower as Cysero for several years as she trained with Warlic certainly taught you an appreciation of being cautious when experimenting with or even just using magic, especially on other people. It also taught you how to deal calmly with magic-related fiascos, but that didn't mean that you looked forward to such things, especially when you were the one who had to fight off the results.

This was probably why Vaneria was stuck fulfilling her 'favor' to Dumbledore by seeing if the young student mages of this world had the potential to wield the magic of Lore.

So far, they didn't. It wasn't so much lack of skill, as lack of understanding the consequences, and limitations. As such, Vaneria would explain the theory, but until she found a student who was willing to be responsible and actually learn, rather than just looking forward to throwing fireballs at each other, she could not, in good conscience, teach them any actual magic.

There were one or two who had real potential, but even then, Vaneria was leery. Learning to use the power of a mage was neither easy, not the work of months, and all of them (Henna and Nightflower especially) would be damned if they were staying any longer than absolutely necessary.

As it was, she was reduced to asking them to shield, the one piece of magic she had taught them, then hitting them with a wind-blast to keep herself from going insane. Being knocked flat on your backside was a fairly safe method of proving that something could be dangerous, even if she did find blasting uppity, superior gits with attitude problems to be a bit more enjoyable that she should.

* * *

This newcomer Mage, Harry Potter decided, made a very interesting teacher, a bit like Professors McGonagall and Snape mixed together, with a touch of Professor Trelawney for flavoring.

She was very to-the-point, didn't tolerate any fooling around or sabotage, punishing whoever was behind it with utter disregard to their house or parentage, as a certain pureblood had quickly found out when her tried to bully and then threaten her with first his Head of House, and then his father. Vaneria had said that Snape could take it up with Dumbledore, and if Mr Malfoy had a problem with how she taught, he could bring it up to her in person.

Like McGonagall and Snape, Vaneria had started her first lesson by giving a speech, weeded out the unwilling or lazy by stating that she would not teach anyone who did not wish or try to learn, and then gone straight to business.

Like Trelawney, Vaneria had warned them that books would only take them so far, and that if they did not have the talent, then there would be little that she could teach them. Much to Hermione's relief and delight, she did have the talent, as did Harry. The third member of their trio did not, but had been more interested in learning physical defense from Vaneria's cousins anyway. He wasn't the only one, as Physical Defense had skyrocketed in popularity when the two young women had been joined by the tall, darker-skinned Ranger. He had resorted to asking Lavender and Parvati why everyone was suddenly so keen, as Hermione had huffed when he asked her, and been informed that self-defense was probably a good idea, now that Voldemort was back, especially if they got to see all of those lovely muscles and deep eyes in the process, and did Harry think that the tattoos had a special meaning, or were they just for show?

Hermione was delighted to be learning something new from Vaneria, while Harry was interested in anything that might help him stay alive long enough for Voldemort to be killed permanently. Add the fact that Umbridge certainly wasn't teaching them anything (and was clearly livid about the course), and that they might be forced to resort to physical force to pass their exams, most of Hogwarts was eager to attend at least part of the course.

Testing for Mage potential was like choosing a wand. Vaneria had brought them up one at a time to see if they could get a reaction from what she called a 'beginner's staff', which was made of a plain shaft of wood, totally unlike the elegant and/or creatively designed staves that Vaneria herself used. Those who did get a reaction from the staff moved to one side of the young Mage, and those who didn't either left to go back to their own pursuits, or waited around to watch.

Anyone who thought that they would be doing magic straight away, however, was sadly mistaken. Once everyone had been tested, Vaneria had produced a book, asked Hermione to duplicate it, and gave everyone a copy that they would be studying in their own time before she let them anywhere near a more advanced staff or taught them a single spell.

This was followed by a very detailed explanation of what she would do to anyone caught fooling around (Harry pitied anyone stupid enough to disregard the warning, as Vaneria did not seem easy to get past or fool) and told them that they would be informed of when and where the next lesson would be held.

Right now, Vaneria was walking Susan Bones through a basic shield and what she called a 'normal-cast' with what she said was 'Surging's Staff'. It was an Energy-based staff, ranked just above a beginner's staff, and produced a bolt of crackling energy.

Closing his book, Harry walked over to where the practical lessons were going on. Henna and Nightflower were staging a demonstration for a very impressed audience, Zhoom watching from the shade of a tree.

Trying not to look as intimidated as he felt, Harry walked over. "Is everyone that good, where you come from?"

Zhoom spared him a brief glance. "Better, usually. Most Warriors and Rogues have several years and a lot more experience on those two. Henna and Nightflower are only a month or so out of training, and not even in their twenties. Before you ask, Vaneria ranges somewhere in the middle, as far as Mages are concerned."

Someone else had overheard that last bit, most likely, because the twins had barely finished demonstrating when someone interrupted their explanation. "Hey, if you are only just out of training, what makes you qualified to teach us? I can beat you any day!"

Beside Harry, Zhoom laughed under his breath. "I never thought I'd meet someone more of an incompetent fool than Drakath." He raised his voice. "Very well, boy, which one of them did you want to be defeated by first?"

Draco obviously hadn't expected anyone to call his bluff, but he had also never been very good at backing down gracefully. "I can take both of you at once, no problem."

The two women exchanged amused looks before exchanging their current weapons for their 'default' ones. Nightflower gave a half-mocking salute. "Whenever you feel ready, then."

It was really sort of embarrassing to watch.

Draco lunged at Nightflower, who calmly side-stepped, and nearly impaled himself on Henna's sword, calmly held in a ready position. Twisting to avoid it, Draco staggered right into Nightflower's trip and fell hard. Keeping just out of his range, the two young fighters explained the technical terms for what they had done, and asked the class to point out where Draco had made mistakes.

It was a long list.

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_A/N: Yes, I know that it's really 'Sir Jing's Staff', but the Hogwarts students are hearing the spoken version, where 'Sir Jing' sounds more like 'Surging'. You may have noticed a trend there._

_It's been a long time since I updated, I know, and I've lost a lot of my inspiration, but I will try to finish the story. In the meantime, reviews are appreciated, as they let me know what I'm doing right and where I need to improve._

_Thanks_

_Nat_


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